Citrus Rain | By : northstar Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > Sessh?maru/Rin > Sessh?maru/Rin Views: 5186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story. |
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are
the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are
the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners,
creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is
intended.
Warning: Anal
=#= Sleepless =#=
Ambience from the fire warms one slash marked cheek. His
gentle exhale stirs the downy hairs at the nape of her neck. The fine silk of
her obi yields to the flick of his claws as the simple knot holding it together
relaxes. One talon-like claw slips beneath layers of cloth and the chill of
cold enamel against heated flesh breaks her soft skin out in goose bumps. One
hooked finger parts the folds and skims down fire flushed, rosy flesh. His
cool, intimate touch brings her wide awake with an almost inaudible gasp as he
circles one nipple with his fingertip.
“Lie still,” he
breathes against her cheek, his mouth so close to her ear that the brush of
lips and fang causes her to shiver once uncontrollably.
He curls infinitesimally closer around her. She jerks then stills
as the unyielding prod of his erection pushes aggressively against the tender
backside of her thigh, up under the edge of her kimono. The tips of long, wicked
fingernails trail delicately up the outside curve of her hip. Claws catch and
snag in the weave as he pulls aside the flap shielding the apex of her legs.
The dark rumble of his pleased chuckle breaks like thunder from his chest
against her back, rolling over her with bone shaking vibrations.
She makes one small squeak as his hand cups her with
proprietary familiarity. The very tip of his tongue traces the blue vein in her
neck as he tastes her nice and slow. Then he presses the curve of his face completely
into the vulnerable hollow of her throat and listens to the quiet, unformed
croons of pleasure she makes as he strokes her with his fingers. His eyes half
close in heavy lidded contentment, his concentration consumed by the minute
play of his hands over her sensitive skin.
Her entreaties never make it to her lips. Her sighs die half
formed in her lungs as she strains into his touch. Over and over he entices her
to the brink. Over and over his caresses turn cruelly soft until her tears
spill over in helpless, frustrated agony. Not until her breath catches in
fitful sobs and her whimpers are of painful pleasure does he relent.
“Rin,”
he purrs, rubbing his cheek like a cat’s against the erratic pulse under her
chin as he releases her from his previous command.
With a choked cry she gathers the tangled length of her
kimono in two fists and hikes it high up around her waist. Blindly she writhes
against him, arching lithely back until the friction of his erection slides upward
between her legs. Small fingers guide the head into the slick curve of her sex,
smearing wet stickiness onto the hard length. Once, twice, then she guides the
blunt tip to the pucker between her buttocks, hissing as the pressure builds.
He bares his teeth once in endured, tortured ecstasy when
the tight ring of muscles gives way and her tightness engulfs him. One large
palm splays demandingly over the small span of her abdomen as he seizes
control, providing a counter force to hold her still as he thrusts deeply with
his hips. She gives a strangled gasp at the sudden violence of it but knows
better than to fight him. Impatiently he rolls her onto her stomach, pinning
her beneath his weight as he takes her with brute strength.
The scent of loam fills the air, mingling with the scent of
the fire, where he grinds her cheek into the earth. Clumps of grass come away
beneath her restless fingers as she claws at the ground with blunt, dirty
fingernails. Each impact of his body within hers tears a low grunt from deep in
her chest. The harsh exhales of her wrenching sobs echo into the darkness as he
rises and falls over her, his hair a silvery, shifting fall of gleaming strands
in the firelight.
Dirty, naked, defiled, her body at last yields itself up to
his nefarious intentions and the ripples of her climax clench him tight inside
of her. Still as winter he freezes, his weight borne by his arms. She comes
with a tormented scream, the volume of her vocalization abating to pitiful
whimpers while her body involuntarily twitches and jerks. Through it all he
waits, watching her with amber eyes that are at once intimate with approval and
cold with casual disregard. When the worst has pass he gathers her close in his
arms and returns them to their sides.
His hips roll into hers as smoothly as waves onto a beach,
milking her crest as he moves towards his own completion. Sated complacency
leaves her as pliable as a puppet within his embrace. There is only a pause in
his rhythm, a hesitation in his movement to betray his own orgasm. That, and the thick viscous liquid that remains spattered on
her flanks as he rolls away and to his feet.
White silk reflects the amber of firelight with unstained
elegance as he turns away. Nothing remains of their entanglement except the
crushed grass at his feet and the scent of him lingering on her body. Quietly
she disappears into the night and returns some time later cleansed of any
evidence of their encounter. This too is per his orders, lest his enemies
realize that she is more to him than a mere oddity.
Silently she settles in to chase elusive slumber, hungry for
any undisturbed rest he will let her have. A moment passes, then two stretches
out long and tense and muted. He glances back at her curled form over his
shoulder, watching the flickering shadows of the flames dance over her tired
face.
Another long moment passes without movement, and then he sighs
and returns to her side. He sits beside her and runs his fingers through her
hair and does his best to be patient.
=#=
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